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View Full Version : Sock Patrol 20 Part 4 (Death of a Deck Chair)



Psychfilm
11-10-2006, 12:36 PM
~ A stinky sock fighting a dirty war with no regard for those around him in a brand new boat.

Taken from the personal War Diary (Kriegstagebuch) of Captain J. Smitlack.


18 August 1941

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Just west of Ireland. I am so very tired. We have only been out for fourteen days yet it seems so much longer. As I pen this Socko has finished singing Froggy Went A Courting and is demanding that we set course due north towards the artic circle so that he can get some ice for his margarita.

Ice the thought of it seems like something out of a wonderful dream, the kind you wish you never wake up from, too good to be true. I order the boat north. Maybe we will get lucky and nothing will happen. A Captain can hope I guess.

19 August 1941

I wake to find Socko standing over me, a straight razor inches from my eye. I ask Socko just what exactly he is doing.

?I was just going to shave your hairy eye ball before I got work on your hands you hairy palmed monkey wrench fondler.? The grime covered lint trap tells me. I shrug. For Socko that is probably the best I can hope for in terms of an explanation.

Socko climbs down from my bunk dejected. What is scary is the fact that I am no longer startled when I wake up with him standing over me. I shudder at the thought of what he probably does to me while I am sleeping and push the thought away, far away. I should have been dead a long time ago. The boat is already hot and it is still only early morning. I can only image what sort of oven it will be when the sun climbs higher in the sky.

I watch as Socko stuffs his head into the bilge. Just lately he has started to play a new game, a variation on the other things he does that disgust me and the rest of the crew of U-123, Bobbing in the Bilge. Socko comes up gargling he then spits the fowl water into the air and lets run down his uniform front. He looks over at me smiling as the brown water drips from his single tarnished brass button eye. I feel my gorge rising but for the time being I am able to fight off the dry heaves.

I watch as the mad sock totters off to cause havoc in another part of the boat. It occurred to me the night before as I was starting to fall into what passes for sleep on this ship of the darned that this is what I was put here to do. Just as Socko was put here to be blight on everything he clamps his eye on. I was put here to chronicle his insanity. In another hundred years or so others will read what I have written and be faced with deciding if Socko was a military genius, a brain damaged psychopath or both? I hope for their sake that they take into account the fact that Socko may very well be standing behind them as they decide?with a hunk of pipe and a bad hangover.

08:22 We receive a contact report from B-dienst. While Socko radios back to set up a dental appointment the Chief and I look over the report. ON (North American fast convoy) reported in Grid AM 25 heading southeast at 6 knots. B-dienst goes on to report our coordinates in AM 26 and the fact that we are the closest boat to the convoy and sailing all alone.

Socko radios back B-dienst and tells them to go suck an egg. If they want to engage this convoy so badly they can come out and do it themselves. I have to pull Socko off the radio when he tries to order a large pizza and have it delivered to the boat giving away our position to anyone within radio range.

The Chief and I work hard for the next several hours trying to convince Socko that a convoy would be filled with several opportunities for his two favorite things, not just death but death and destruction. It is only when the Chief and I both admit that it was all his idea to intercept that Socko consents. We plot an intercept course.

13:58 U-123 receives another contact report this one from Donitz himself. We are on a perfect intercept course. Donitz confirms this with the Captain of the inbound British convoy who asks for our exact position again and Donitz is more than happy to report our exact location. Socko jumps on the horn and tells Donitz what he really thinks of him.

14:17 Socko finishes his diatribe on Donitz long after, I hope, Donitz has signed off and left the building.

14:42 I order us down for a hydrophone check and we pick up multiple screws approaching. I order us up to periscope depth to have a look.

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A convoy! I think. I?ve never seen one before. Socko is literally foaming at the mouth. He demands that we surface immediately and destroy whatever it is with the deck gun. I tell him that if it is a convoy escorts will no doubt be protecting it. He tells me that it sounds like I fell out of the coward tree and hit every branch on the way down. I tell him that we will try to slip past the destroyer screen after which I will let him have free reign on the convoy. He tells me that I should let him surface and have free reign with everything on the face of the earth. I send him off to count the torpedoes while we try to slip past.

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I take one quick look at the convoy and then rig for silent running and slow the boat. This convoy is the biggest thing we?ve ever been up against. Not as dangerous as charging into Loch Ewe or Hartlepool but the danger is still present. However the rewards could be huge.

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It is then that I notice the C-2.

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She was on the edge of the convoy happy as you please with several large crates of deck chairs strapped to the deck. I am sure my deck chair is among them. If only we can slip past the escort screen. I take the boat down to 30 meters while Socko screams at everyone to put a sock in it or they may find their heads where the sun won?t shine.

As we creep ever closer the hydrophone operator reports a warship moving towards us. It is the Clemenson Destroyer. She has found us. I don?t know how but she has found us. The screws of the DD go into high RPM. Oh Crud.

?Brace yourself Nancy, we?re in for a heck of a ride.? Socko says.

The Clemenson starts pinging U-123.

?Sir! The enemy is pinging us!? The halfwit hydrophone operator says.

Thanks, I didn?t gather that from the sonar waves pinging off the side of the boat that the enemy was pinging us. It?s so good that we have you onboard to point these things out to us. Your stupidity stymies the imagination.

Socko goes berserk. He starts running up and down the length screaming at the top of his lungs.

?Someone answer the freakin? door bell! They might be selling Girl Scout cookies!? He climbs the to the conning tower and hatch and tries in vain to open it but the pressure outside is too great for him to force the hatch open.

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?Sir! Destroyer on attack run!?

Hmmm and to think this whole time I thought that tommies would lock their radar set on us and then just go home. What silly behavior on their part.

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?Sir, Depth charges in the water!?

?Of course they?re in the water where did you expect them you smack-TARD?!? Socko shouts at the top of his lungs.

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Thank you Hydrophone Operator Obvious, thank you for that insightful information. The next thing you?ll be telling us is that they are detonating or something like that.

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The boat is bracketed by depth charges. We incur heavy damages and the boat is plunged into a pudding like darkness but not like a vanilla pudding darkness but more like a double chocolate pudding darkness. The explosions rock the boat as if a giant 100 foot Keebler Elf is throwing a hissy fit against the side of the boat. Loud creaks and popping rivets reverberate throughout the boat. The screams of the crew intermingle with the chaos. The chief scrambles through the maelstrom of fallen bodies and broken machinery and gets the emergency lighting activated. The depth manometer shows a rate of descent and the bow is pitched high. We are stern heavy and we are sinking. I watch as the depth gauge slowly unwinds taking us deeper and deeper. It takes several minutes for the panic that has ripped through the boat to calm to a level where I can think let alone act. A few moments later the boat groans loudly as we pass 70 meters. The crew goes quiet.

?Sir! Depth charges exploding!?

Socko and I exchange a glance. The mad sock appoints the hydrophone operator as the boat?s First Officer. No sooner is the appointment made than Socko pulls the hydrophone operator out of his shack. Socko is about to throttle him when the crazed sock slips in a puddle of creamed corn just as another pair of depth charges rocks the boat. U-123 pitches up to an even higher angle as water begins to flood into the control room. Socko and U-123?s new First Officer free fall through the boat towards the stern. As they fall through the diesel engine compartment Socko bounces the former Hydrophone operator?s head off the rocker arm of one of the engines.

The First Officer slumps to the floor and Socko is on him like a soccer mom when her kid does not make the team and she realizes at the same time that her child is not going to be the next Mia Hamm that she is not going to be able to live vicariously through her children and pressure them to get into a good college when all they really want to do is form a grunge band and hang out in the parking lot behind the Circle K. Where was I?

Socko picks up the First Officer and starts to stuff him into the port diesel engine. It is not a pretty sight. Socko, like the boat falling to the ocean floor, plunges into one of his trademark rages.

?I?ll show you exploding depth charges you IIIIIDDDDDIIIOT?

The boat is still plunging towards her crush depth. I call for a damage report.

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It does not look good. The boat is flooding in several compartments. The compressor is damaged, the radio is out. Several of the torpedo hatches are leaking as well. The electric motors are off line. The diesel engine room is coated in a sheen of blood from the now dead former Hydrophone Operator and we have said dead former Hydrophone Operator stuffed in the port diesel engine.

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I order damage control parties to work on the more critical damage. U-123 continues to slip deeper and deeper. Several anxious moments pass. Shortly after we control the flooding we finally get the boat stabilized at 210 meters. The boat heaves a collective sigh of relief. Through the red light of the boat I see a single brass button eye bobbing through the darkness.

?Woo Hoo! That was a blast Nancy let?s go again!? I slump down on top of the chart chest completely exhausted. I order us up to 150 meters. Socko sits down beside me smiling the insanity bursting forth from every seam.

?We tried it once your way Khan. Are you game for a rematch?? Socko asks as I just stare at him with hollow eyes. He goes on.

?Khan, I?m laughing at the ?superior? intellect.?

?What the heck are you talking about?? I ask the exhaustion and frustration breaking through the surface. I have never felt farther from my deck chair than down here at 150 meters with my butt firmly planted on the cold unforgiving deck plates. I order us up to 30 meters and set a course away from the convoy.

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U-123 needs to repair and regroup. Socko drives the repair crews like a Deliverance extra at a gay pride parade. The boat gets far enough away from the convoy to surface. We repair everything that we can. As the crews work I compose and send out a contact report to OKM. After taking several stiff belts from something Socko was passing around in a beaker I hand over command of U-123 to my mad sock Co-Captain.

With a crazed glimmer in his single brass button eye Socko orders flank speed ahead and wheels the boat around back towards the convoy.

?Now I?ll show you taffy pullers how to fight a real war!? Socko exclaims as he slides behind the deck gun. ?That DD crew will wish their mothers had eaten them at birth!? Socko screams over the sound of the waves crashing against the bow of the boat.

I try unsuccessfully to push that image from my mind as we begin to close in on the convoy and what I am sure will be our destruction. Socko fires off a star shell to let them know we are coming.

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I try to reason with Socko that a U-boat is only supposed to attack on the surface at night. He tells me to sit in the back with the other wee pansies and maybe if I?m lucky he?ll bring me a glass of water and read me a bedtime story.

Socko sights in on the Clemenson DD that had depth charged us earlier.

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I try again to reason with the mad sock as he prepares to fire. I tell him that it is not possible to make the shot. The DD is simply too far away.

Without taking his eyes from the sight Socko responds with this little gem of wisdom.

?Nancy, all things are possible except skiing through a revolving door.?

That said he fires. I?m not going to say that the DD was far away but the deck gun was reloaded before the shell hit. Socko however did not need a second shot. His first shot struck the DD along the bow just below the water line. The DD turns towards but she is already fatally holed. It is only a matter of time.

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Socko screams at the sinking ship. He is starting to run for the flak gun to give the survivors the once over when a shell comes screaming over head hitting the water behind us.

?Where the heck did that come from??

Socko sights back in behind the deck gun.

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A flower corvette peels off from the convoy and starts steaming directly for us.

?A flower corvette? Call the **** Cavett Show! We got hippies off the port bow!? Socko screams as his single brass button eye narrows. ?Hippies, they?re everywhere. They wanna save the earth but all they do is smoke pot and smell bad. I hate them. DIE HIPPIES!!?

Socko fires without aiming, the shell traces a perfect arch through the sky and impacts on the upper deck of the corvette causing a fire to break out. The fire quickly spreads along the front of the ship.

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?Take that ya Hippies!? The corvette swings around and unleashes another shell that sends a geyser of water up and onto the bridge of U-123.

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Socko takes evasive action while sending shell after shell into the armed corvette. U-123 and the Corvette crisscross in a deadly ballet of naval surface combat. Socko taunts the crew of the escort vessel the entire time. Eventually the mad sock is able to maneuver behind the corvette. It really was only a matter of time.

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It is clearly a contest of wills. Socko orders ramming speed and prepares to fire point bank range in the hull of the doomed corvette. The fate of the convoy hangs in the balance.

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Socko fires. The shell obliterates the stern of the ship and she slips beneath the waves dashing towards the bottom as if she were free falling.

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The convoy is virtually defenseless as Socko turns the boat to?

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and orders Flank Speed Ahead. Our deck gun ammo is greatly diminished and the prudent thing would be to husband it for the long trip home. Socko, as he is often known to do, tosses caution to the wind and starts shelling the convoy without mercy.

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The merchants in the convoy are not going to just lay down and take it. A number of them are Q ships they uncover their guns and return fire.

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Socko moves in for the kill laughing as the convoy fires and fails to hit our boat. He moves to the UZO to sight in and begins his torpedo calculations. An errant shell from the convoy hits the tower and a shudder resounds through the boat as the shell hits the water and explodes soaking everyone on the bridge in the briny spray.

?We should dive!? I scream in vain. Socko peels his eye from the UZO and stares up at me amidst the chaos and says in an eerily calm voice.

?Shut your fricken pie hole Nancy and let Uncle Socko make some money!? He turns to the others on the bridge. ?I bet you unwashed toilet drinkers I can shoot a torpedo past the first C-2 around the T-2 tanker and into the fuel bunker of the second C-2 in the middle. Place your bets you scurvy bum batterers.?

The sock has obviously been out in the sun too long. There is no way he can make that shot. No way.

I put myself down for a months pay as does the rest of the assembled men, if the sock wants to lose his money we?ll take it from him. At 5 to 1 odds I should have a pretty tidy profit at the end of this patrol. After all, proficiency with a deck gun is one thing but you never know with absolute certainty what a torpedo is going to do. It could fail to leave the tube, it could premature on you, it could run too deep, it could run too shallow, it could be a dud or it could miss. It is a miracle we sink anything at all with torpedoes. I?m confident in my bet. That money is as good as mine.

Socko takes one last look through the UZO, crunches the numbers on more time and then starring up at me with a cruel smile on his face?Socko fires.

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I really hate that sock.

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Socko turns smiling at me.

?You just lost a months pay Nancy! Who wants to go double or nothing?? The watch crew merely stares back much poorer and a lot quieter than before.

Socko runs back to the deck gun and expends the remaining ammo on the T2 he so expertly fired the torp past. He makes short work of it.

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Socko turns his hateful eye to the rest of the convoy.

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The ships in the convoy that can, run while those who are able to fire on U-123.

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Several shells slam into the boat. The crew is on the edge of panic. Several are lost in the chaos off the battle as shells explode all around.

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The damage is bad but not like the plastering we got on our first run in on the convoy. Several of the crewmembers are curled up in the fetal position crying. I?m half tempted to join them as more shells slam into the boat. As I am dropping down to partake in the general panic Socko looks down at us in disgust.

?Stop acting like tutu wearing Englishmen you panty wastes.? I rise to my feet and order the necessary repairs. The boat heels around and gains some distance beyond the guns of the convoy. The repairs are carried out quickly. U-123 wheels around and heads back towards the convoy. Socko orders the boat below the water. He very nearly sent us there the fast way I realize as I dog the hatch closed.

The convoy has started to fragment like the frayed edge of what used to be Socko?s sanity.

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Socko rips into the vulnerable convoy with a naked fury like a nude sunbather who falls asleep on the equator at high noon. The mad sock his single eye glinting shows no mercy only cruel hatred.

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I catalog the carnage through the periscope unable to look away as Socko vents his perverse sick twisted rage on the nearly defenseless British convoy.

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Socko circles below the convoy like an alligator in the toilet bowl. Just waiting for the right moment to snap.

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The C-2 hauling deck chairs slows to make a turn in an effort to get out of the way of a faster moving C-3 sliding up from astern.

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Socko eyes the outside world through the periscope safely enclosed in the metal drum of U-123. He turns his evil brass button eye towards me and smiles and ungodly toothless cotton smile.

?Kiss your deck chair good bye Nancy!?

Socko strikes.

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The C-2 is going down by the stern. The crew of the C2 struggles to right the ship but it is in vain. Socko cackling like a maniac slams another torp into the crippled ship.

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I sink to the deck plates tears running down my face as my sole material possession slips below the waves never to see the sun or my butt every again. The C-2, but more importantly my deck chair, races to the bottom of the Atlantic.

The convoy descends into full-blown chaos. SSS distress calls are no doubt being sent out and all for nothing. The convoy is doomed it is only a matter of time.

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Socko presses the attack. With our bow torps expended and the crew working furiously to reload them Socko turns the stern tubes towards the enemy. With a hardy, ?Kiss my Aft!? He fires.

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Not taking time to gloat or even do an end zone dance Socko fires again.

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The temperature inside the boat climbs well past 110 degrees as the crews continue the work to reload. I take off my shirt to cool down and also to expose my ripped abs and my tattoo that depicts two heavily muscled, mustachioed, shirtless U-boat men caught in a firm embrace above a banner that reads ?U-boat men Blow Ballast?

We still have two external torpedoes loaded in waterproof cases on the aft deck of U-123 but who knows if they are even intact after the depth charge attack. Socko orders us to the surface in full view of the convoy in order to ventilate, recharge, reload and check the aft water tight torpedo containers.

The convoy still had some fight left in her and we encountered a hot reception on the surface as we came under another barrage of blistering fire.

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We make a break for it at Flank speed and are finally able to slip away.

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Socko sends a few choice insults, as well as a number of obscenities, in the general direction of the convoy?

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as well as a little flak gun fire.

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By this time however U-123 has pulled to far away for any of the flak gun rounds to be effective. We quickly out distance the mauled convoy.

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The aft waterproof torpedo canisters are intact. The reloads take several hours and by the time they are finished dusk is upon us.

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I keep Socko entertained until nightfall by playing one of his favorite games, Guess That Smell.

Night falls on the boat like an old lady taking a header down a flight of stairs. When the sun leaves the sky so to goes the hope of the convoy.

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We submerge and slip into the convoy like a monkey at a feces-throwing competition. Socko is bold and cruel and happy.

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He takes to bumping his victims in much the same way that a shark will.

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The realization that my deck chair is gone hits me hard and I can only watch as the events unfold. No matter what the British do the results are the same.

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The night is hot but Socko?s revenge is cold and there is plenty to go around.

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The convoy sails on like dumb animals hoping that their sheer numbers will save them. Socko is in rare form however and picks them off one at a time like a dingo set loose in a baby factory.

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Socko uses the light of the fires he has caused to line up his shots.

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He cannot hear the screams of the British sailors so he surrounds himself with a number of crew from U-123 and tortures them. He calls it surround sounds.

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By the end of the night I have seen enough killing to last three lifetimes. The crew of U-123 is exhausted both mentally and physically. Socko has expended every shell, bullet and torpedo until the only thing left to hurl at the British are insults. Socko suggests ramming the ships in the convoy. He has designated himself a lone U-boat Wolf Pack. The howling lint balls. I feel like kicking the gloating self-righteous little snot in the lint balls but I restrain myself.

I convince Socko that it would be futile to ram the convoy because he has already destroyed it. We send a patrol report and are ordered to return home. The boat turns towards France and I head towards my bunk for some much needed sleep.

19 August ? 23 August 1941

U-123 spends the next five days sailing back to Lorient. I spend much of that time in my bunk. We have no weapons onboard except for Socko. Luckily the only thing we run into is a neutral C-3 from America.

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Socko begs for the opportunity to ram the large cargo ship but while we are arguing she is able to slip away.

On the 22nd the wind picks up and the sky clouds over.

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We slip into port using the weather as cover. The rain holds long enough for us to dock at the Pier.

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Our usual gaggle of gregarious groupies is there to greet us almost as if they never left. Socko heads for the nearest Sock factory as I head for the nearest shower. It was a short patrol that yielded a large amount of carnage. Raeder shows up late to hand out medals but the crew has already headed for the cathouses. As I soak in a nice hot bath with my rubber ducky I cannot imagine what horrors the next patrol of U-123 will hold. I know however that I will spend a great many days mourning the loss of my deck chair, my one material possession in a world gone crazy.

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Thanks for reading. Sorry for any typos. This report was a bit longer than the others and will be the last for a little while as I transition over to the gray wolves mod. I?m hoping to be up to speed on it in a few weeks so I can concentrate on running some patrols during the winter break. We will just have to wait and see I guess. In the meantime keep hunting.

Psychfilm
11-10-2006, 12:36 PM
~ A stinky sock fighting a dirty war with no regard for those around him in a brand new boat.

Taken from the personal War Diary (Kriegstagebuch) of Captain J. Smitlack.


18 August 1941

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Just west of Ireland. I am so very tired. We have only been out for fourteen days yet it seems so much longer. As I pen this Socko has finished singing Froggy Went A Courting and is demanding that we set course due north towards the artic circle so that he can get some ice for his margarita.

Ice the thought of it seems like something out of a wonderful dream, the kind you wish you never wake up from, too good to be true. I order the boat north. Maybe we will get lucky and nothing will happen. A Captain can hope I guess.

19 August 1941

I wake to find Socko standing over me, a straight razor inches from my eye. I ask Socko just what exactly he is doing.

?I was just going to shave your hairy eye ball before I got work on your hands you hairy palmed monkey wrench fondler.? The grime covered lint trap tells me. I shrug. For Socko that is probably the best I can hope for in terms of an explanation.

Socko climbs down from my bunk dejected. What is scary is the fact that I am no longer startled when I wake up with him standing over me. I shudder at the thought of what he probably does to me while I am sleeping and push the thought away, far away. I should have been dead a long time ago. The boat is already hot and it is still only early morning. I can only image what sort of oven it will be when the sun climbs higher in the sky.

I watch as Socko stuffs his head into the bilge. Just lately he has started to play a new game, a variation on the other things he does that disgust me and the rest of the crew of U-123, Bobbing in the Bilge. Socko comes up gargling he then spits the fowl water into the air and lets run down his uniform front. He looks over at me smiling as the brown water drips from his single tarnished brass button eye. I feel my gorge rising but for the time being I am able to fight off the dry heaves.

I watch as the mad sock totters off to cause havoc in another part of the boat. It occurred to me the night before as I was starting to fall into what passes for sleep on this ship of the darned that this is what I was put here to do. Just as Socko was put here to be blight on everything he clamps his eye on. I was put here to chronicle his insanity. In another hundred years or so others will read what I have written and be faced with deciding if Socko was a military genius, a brain damaged psychopath or both? I hope for their sake that they take into account the fact that Socko may very well be standing behind them as they decide?with a hunk of pipe and a bad hangover.

08:22 We receive a contact report from B-dienst. While Socko radios back to set up a dental appointment the Chief and I look over the report. ON (North American fast convoy) reported in Grid AM 25 heading southeast at 6 knots. B-dienst goes on to report our coordinates in AM 26 and the fact that we are the closest boat to the convoy and sailing all alone.

Socko radios back B-dienst and tells them to go suck an egg. If they want to engage this convoy so badly they can come out and do it themselves. I have to pull Socko off the radio when he tries to order a large pizza and have it delivered to the boat giving away our position to anyone within radio range.

The Chief and I work hard for the next several hours trying to convince Socko that a convoy would be filled with several opportunities for his two favorite things, not just death but death and destruction. It is only when the Chief and I both admit that it was all his idea to intercept that Socko consents. We plot an intercept course.

13:58 U-123 receives another contact report this one from Donitz himself. We are on a perfect intercept course. Donitz confirms this with the Captain of the inbound British convoy who asks for our exact position again and Donitz is more than happy to report our exact location. Socko jumps on the horn and tells Donitz what he really thinks of him.

14:17 Socko finishes his diatribe on Donitz long after, I hope, Donitz has signed off and left the building.

14:42 I order us down for a hydrophone check and we pick up multiple screws approaching. I order us up to periscope depth to have a look.

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A convoy! I think. I?ve never seen one before. Socko is literally foaming at the mouth. He demands that we surface immediately and destroy whatever it is with the deck gun. I tell him that if it is a convoy escorts will no doubt be protecting it. He tells me that it sounds like I fell out of the coward tree and hit every branch on the way down. I tell him that we will try to slip past the destroyer screen after which I will let him have free reign on the convoy. He tells me that I should let him surface and have free reign with everything on the face of the earth. I send him off to count the torpedoes while we try to slip past.

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I take one quick look at the convoy and then rig for silent running and slow the boat. This convoy is the biggest thing we?ve ever been up against. Not as dangerous as charging into Loch Ewe or Hartlepool but the danger is still present. However the rewards could be huge.

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It is then that I notice the C-2.

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She was on the edge of the convoy happy as you please with several large crates of deck chairs strapped to the deck. I am sure my deck chair is among them. If only we can slip past the escort screen. I take the boat down to 30 meters while Socko screams at everyone to put a sock in it or they may find their heads where the sun won?t shine.

As we creep ever closer the hydrophone operator reports a warship moving towards us. It is the Clemenson Destroyer. She has found us. I don?t know how but she has found us. The screws of the DD go into high RPM. Oh Crud.

?Brace yourself Nancy, we?re in for a heck of a ride.? Socko says.

The Clemenson starts pinging U-123.

?Sir! The enemy is pinging us!? The halfwit hydrophone operator says.

Thanks, I didn?t gather that from the sonar waves pinging off the side of the boat that the enemy was pinging us. It?s so good that we have you onboard to point these things out to us. Your stupidity stymies the imagination.

Socko goes berserk. He starts running up and down the length screaming at the top of his lungs.

?Someone answer the freakin? door bell! They might be selling Girl Scout cookies!? He climbs the to the conning tower and hatch and tries in vain to open it but the pressure outside is too great for him to force the hatch open.

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?Sir! Destroyer on attack run!?

Hmmm and to think this whole time I thought that tommies would lock their radar set on us and then just go home. What silly behavior on their part.

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?Sir, Depth charges in the water!?

?Of course they?re in the water where did you expect them you smack-TARD?!? Socko shouts at the top of his lungs.

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Thank you Hydrophone Operator Obvious, thank you for that insightful information. The next thing you?ll be telling us is that they are detonating or something like that.

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The boat is bracketed by depth charges. We incur heavy damages and the boat is plunged into a pudding like darkness but not like a vanilla pudding darkness but more like a double chocolate pudding darkness. The explosions rock the boat as if a giant 100 foot Keebler Elf is throwing a hissy fit against the side of the boat. Loud creaks and popping rivets reverberate throughout the boat. The screams of the crew intermingle with the chaos. The chief scrambles through the maelstrom of fallen bodies and broken machinery and gets the emergency lighting activated. The depth manometer shows a rate of descent and the bow is pitched high. We are stern heavy and we are sinking. I watch as the depth gauge slowly unwinds taking us deeper and deeper. It takes several minutes for the panic that has ripped through the boat to calm to a level where I can think let alone act. A few moments later the boat groans loudly as we pass 70 meters. The crew goes quiet.

?Sir! Depth charges exploding!?

Socko and I exchange a glance. The mad sock appoints the hydrophone operator as the boat?s First Officer. No sooner is the appointment made than Socko pulls the hydrophone operator out of his shack. Socko is about to throttle him when the crazed sock slips in a puddle of creamed corn just as another pair of depth charges rocks the boat. U-123 pitches up to an even higher angle as water begins to flood into the control room. Socko and U-123?s new First Officer free fall through the boat towards the stern. As they fall through the diesel engine compartment Socko bounces the former Hydrophone operator?s head off the rocker arm of one of the engines.

The First Officer slumps to the floor and Socko is on him like a soccer mom when her kid does not make the team and she realizes at the same time that her child is not going to be the next Mia Hamm that she is not going to be able to live vicariously through her children and pressure them to get into a good college when all they really want to do is form a grunge band and hang out in the parking lot behind the Circle K. Where was I?

Socko picks up the First Officer and starts to stuff him into the port diesel engine. It is not a pretty sight. Socko, like the boat falling to the ocean floor, plunges into one of his trademark rages.

?I?ll show you exploding depth charges you IIIIIDDDDDIIIOT?

The boat is still plunging towards her crush depth. I call for a damage report.

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It does not look good. The boat is flooding in several compartments. The compressor is damaged, the radio is out. Several of the torpedo hatches are leaking as well. The electric motors are off line. The diesel engine room is coated in a sheen of blood from the now dead former Hydrophone Operator and we have said dead former Hydrophone Operator stuffed in the port diesel engine.

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I order damage control parties to work on the more critical damage. U-123 continues to slip deeper and deeper. Several anxious moments pass. Shortly after we control the flooding we finally get the boat stabilized at 210 meters. The boat heaves a collective sigh of relief. Through the red light of the boat I see a single brass button eye bobbing through the darkness.

?Woo Hoo! That was a blast Nancy let?s go again!? I slump down on top of the chart chest completely exhausted. I order us up to 150 meters. Socko sits down beside me smiling the insanity bursting forth from every seam.

?We tried it once your way Khan. Are you game for a rematch?? Socko asks as I just stare at him with hollow eyes. He goes on.

?Khan, I?m laughing at the ?superior? intellect.?

?What the heck are you talking about?? I ask the exhaustion and frustration breaking through the surface. I have never felt farther from my deck chair than down here at 150 meters with my butt firmly planted on the cold unforgiving deck plates. I order us up to 30 meters and set a course away from the convoy.

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U-123 needs to repair and regroup. Socko drives the repair crews like a Deliverance extra at a gay pride parade. The boat gets far enough away from the convoy to surface. We repair everything that we can. As the crews work I compose and send out a contact report to OKM. After taking several stiff belts from something Socko was passing around in a beaker I hand over command of U-123 to my mad sock Co-Captain.

With a crazed glimmer in his single brass button eye Socko orders flank speed ahead and wheels the boat around back towards the convoy.

?Now I?ll show you taffy pullers how to fight a real war!? Socko exclaims as he slides behind the deck gun. ?That DD crew will wish their mothers had eaten them at birth!? Socko screams over the sound of the waves crashing against the bow of the boat.

I try unsuccessfully to push that image from my mind as we begin to close in on the convoy and what I am sure will be our destruction. Socko fires off a star shell to let them know we are coming.

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I try to reason with Socko that a U-boat is only supposed to attack on the surface at night. He tells me to sit in the back with the other wee pansies and maybe if I?m lucky he?ll bring me a glass of water and read me a bedtime story.

Socko sights in on the Clemenson DD that had depth charged us earlier.

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I try again to reason with the mad sock as he prepares to fire. I tell him that it is not possible to make the shot. The DD is simply too far away.

Without taking his eyes from the sight Socko responds with this little gem of wisdom.

?Nancy, all things are possible except skiing through a revolving door.?

That said he fires. I?m not going to say that the DD was far away but the deck gun was reloaded before the shell hit. Socko however did not need a second shot. His first shot struck the DD along the bow just below the water line. The DD turns towards but she is already fatally holed. It is only a matter of time.

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Socko screams at the sinking ship. He is starting to run for the flak gun to give the survivors the once over when a shell comes screaming over head hitting the water behind us.

?Where the heck did that come from??

Socko sights back in behind the deck gun.

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A flower corvette peels off from the convoy and starts steaming directly for us.

?A flower corvette? Call the **** Cavett Show! We got hippies off the port bow!? Socko screams as his single brass button eye narrows. ?Hippies, they?re everywhere. They wanna save the earth but all they do is smoke pot and smell bad. I hate them. DIE HIPPIES!!?

Socko fires without aiming, the shell traces a perfect arch through the sky and impacts on the upper deck of the corvette causing a fire to break out. The fire quickly spreads along the front of the ship.

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?Take that ya Hippies!? The corvette swings around and unleashes another shell that sends a geyser of water up and onto the bridge of U-123.

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Socko takes evasive action while sending shell after shell into the armed corvette. U-123 and the Corvette crisscross in a deadly ballet of naval surface combat. Socko taunts the crew of the escort vessel the entire time. Eventually the mad sock is able to maneuver behind the corvette. It really was only a matter of time.

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It is clearly a contest of wills. Socko orders ramming speed and prepares to fire point bank range in the hull of the doomed corvette. The fate of the convoy hangs in the balance.

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Socko fires. The shell obliterates the stern of the ship and she slips beneath the waves dashing towards the bottom as if she were free falling.

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The convoy is virtually defenseless as Socko turns the boat to?

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and orders Flank Speed Ahead. Our deck gun ammo is greatly diminished and the prudent thing would be to husband it for the long trip home. Socko, as he is often known to do, tosses caution to the wind and starts shelling the convoy without mercy.

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The merchants in the convoy are not going to just lay down and take it. A number of them are Q ships they uncover their guns and return fire.

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Socko moves in for the kill laughing as the convoy fires and fails to hit our boat. He moves to the UZO to sight in and begins his torpedo calculations. An errant shell from the convoy hits the tower and a shudder resounds through the boat as the shell hits the water and explodes soaking everyone on the bridge in the briny spray.

?We should dive!? I scream in vain. Socko peels his eye from the UZO and stares up at me amidst the chaos and says in an eerily calm voice.

?Shut your fricken pie hole Nancy and let Uncle Socko make some money!? He turns to the others on the bridge. ?I bet you unwashed toilet drinkers I can shoot a torpedo past the first C-2 around the T-2 tanker and into the fuel bunker of the second C-2 in the middle. Place your bets you scurvy bum batterers.?

The sock has obviously been out in the sun too long. There is no way he can make that shot. No way.

I put myself down for a months pay as does the rest of the assembled men, if the sock wants to lose his money we?ll take it from him. At 5 to 1 odds I should have a pretty tidy profit at the end of this patrol. After all, proficiency with a deck gun is one thing but you never know with absolute certainty what a torpedo is going to do. It could fail to leave the tube, it could premature on you, it could run too deep, it could run too shallow, it could be a dud or it could miss. It is a miracle we sink anything at all with torpedoes. I?m confident in my bet. That money is as good as mine.

Socko takes one last look through the UZO, crunches the numbers on more time and then starring up at me with a cruel smile on his face?Socko fires.

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I really hate that sock.

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Socko turns smiling at me.

?You just lost a months pay Nancy! Who wants to go double or nothing?? The watch crew merely stares back much poorer and a lot quieter than before.

Socko runs back to the deck gun and expends the remaining ammo on the T2 he so expertly fired the torp past. He makes short work of it.

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Socko turns his hateful eye to the rest of the convoy.

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The ships in the convoy that can, run while those who are able to fire on U-123.

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Several shells slam into the boat. The crew is on the edge of panic. Several are lost in the chaos off the battle as shells explode all around.

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The damage is bad but not like the plastering we got on our first run in on the convoy. Several of the crewmembers are curled up in the fetal position crying. I?m half tempted to join them as more shells slam into the boat. As I am dropping down to partake in the general panic Socko looks down at us in disgust.

?Stop acting like tutu wearing Englishmen you panty wastes.? I rise to my feet and order the necessary repairs. The boat heels around and gains some distance beyond the guns of the convoy. The repairs are carried out quickly. U-123 wheels around and heads back towards the convoy. Socko orders the boat below the water. He very nearly sent us there the fast way I realize as I dog the hatch closed.

The convoy has started to fragment like the frayed edge of what used to be Socko?s sanity.

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Socko rips into the vulnerable convoy with a naked fury like a nude sunbather who falls asleep on the equator at high noon. The mad sock his single eye glinting shows no mercy only cruel hatred.

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I catalog the carnage through the periscope unable to look away as Socko vents his perverse sick twisted rage on the nearly defenseless British convoy.

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Socko circles below the convoy like an alligator in the toilet bowl. Just waiting for the right moment to snap.

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The C-2 hauling deck chairs slows to make a turn in an effort to get out of the way of a faster moving C-3 sliding up from astern.

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Socko eyes the outside world through the periscope safely enclosed in the metal drum of U-123. He turns his evil brass button eye towards me and smiles and ungodly toothless cotton smile.

?Kiss your deck chair good bye Nancy!?

Socko strikes.

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The C-2 is going down by the stern. The crew of the C2 struggles to right the ship but it is in vain. Socko cackling like a maniac slams another torp into the crippled ship.

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I sink to the deck plates tears running down my face as my sole material possession slips below the waves never to see the sun or my butt every again. The C-2, but more importantly my deck chair, races to the bottom of the Atlantic.

The convoy descends into full-blown chaos. SSS distress calls are no doubt being sent out and all for nothing. The convoy is doomed it is only a matter of time.

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Socko presses the attack. With our bow torps expended and the crew working furiously to reload them Socko turns the stern tubes towards the enemy. With a hardy, ?Kiss my Aft!? He fires.

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Not taking time to gloat or even do an end zone dance Socko fires again.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/5.jpg

The temperature inside the boat climbs well past 110 degrees as the crews continue the work to reload. I take off my shirt to cool down and also to expose my ripped abs and my tattoo that depicts two heavily muscled, mustachioed, shirtless U-boat men caught in a firm embrace above a banner that reads ?U-boat men Blow Ballast?

We still have two external torpedoes loaded in waterproof cases on the aft deck of U-123 but who knows if they are even intact after the depth charge attack. Socko orders us to the surface in full view of the convoy in order to ventilate, recharge, reload and check the aft water tight torpedo containers.

The convoy still had some fight left in her and we encountered a hot reception on the surface as we came under another barrage of blistering fire.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/6-13.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/6-12.jpg

We make a break for it at Flank speed and are finally able to slip away.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/6-11.jpg

Socko sends a few choice insults, as well as a number of obscenities, in the general direction of the convoy?

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/6-10.jpg

as well as a little flak gun fire.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/6-8.jpg

By this time however U-123 has pulled to far away for any of the flak gun rounds to be effective. We quickly out distance the mauled convoy.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/6-9.jpg

The aft waterproof torpedo canisters are intact. The reloads take several hours and by the time they are finished dusk is upon us.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/6-1.jpg

I keep Socko entertained until nightfall by playing one of his favorite games, Guess That Smell.

Night falls on the boat like an old lady taking a header down a flight of stairs. When the sun leaves the sky so to goes the hope of the convoy.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-25.jpg

We submerge and slip into the convoy like a monkey at a feces-throwing competition. Socko is bold and cruel and happy.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-24.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-23.jpg

He takes to bumping his victims in much the same way that a shark will.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-22.jpg

The realization that my deck chair is gone hits me hard and I can only watch as the events unfold. No matter what the British do the results are the same.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-21.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-20.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-19.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-18.jpg

The night is hot but Socko?s revenge is cold and there is plenty to go around.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-17.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-16.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-15.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-14.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-4.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-3.jpg

The convoy sails on like dumb animals hoping that their sheer numbers will save them. Socko is in rare form however and picks them off one at a time like a dingo set loose in a baby factory.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-2.jpg

Socko uses the light of the fires he has caused to line up his shots.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7-1.jpg

He cannot hear the screams of the British sailors so he surrounds himself with a number of crew from U-123 and tortures them. He calls it surround sounds.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/7.jpg

By the end of the night I have seen enough killing to last three lifetimes. The crew of U-123 is exhausted both mentally and physically. Socko has expended every shell, bullet and torpedo until the only thing left to hurl at the British are insults. Socko suggests ramming the ships in the convoy. He has designated himself a lone U-boat Wolf Pack. The howling lint balls. I feel like kicking the gloating self-righteous little snot in the lint balls but I restrain myself.

I convince Socko that it would be futile to ram the convoy because he has already destroyed it. We send a patrol report and are ordered to return home. The boat turns towards France and I head towards my bunk for some much needed sleep.

19 August ? 23 August 1941

U-123 spends the next five days sailing back to Lorient. I spend much of that time in my bunk. We have no weapons onboard except for Socko. Luckily the only thing we run into is a neutral C-3 from America.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/8-5.jpg

Socko begs for the opportunity to ram the large cargo ship but while we are arguing she is able to slip away.

On the 22nd the wind picks up and the sky clouds over.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/8-4.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/8-3.jpg

We slip into port using the weather as cover. The rain holds long enough for us to dock at the Pier.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/8-2.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/8-1.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Sock%20Patrol%201p4/8.jpg

Our usual gaggle of gregarious groupies is there to greet us almost as if they never left. Socko heads for the nearest Sock factory as I head for the nearest shower. It was a short patrol that yielded a large amount of carnage. Raeder shows up late to hand out medals but the crew has already headed for the cathouses. As I soak in a nice hot bath with my rubber ducky I cannot imagine what horrors the next patrol of U-123 will hold. I know however that I will spend a great many days mourning the loss of my deck chair, my one material possession in a world gone crazy.

http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif

Thanks for reading. Sorry for any typos. This report was a bit longer than the others and will be the last for a little while as I transition over to the gray wolves mod. I?m hoping to be up to speed on it in a few weeks so I can concentrate on running some patrols during the winter break. We will just have to wait and see I guess. In the meantime keep hunting.

WilhelmSchulz.
11-10-2006, 01:07 PM
DEAR GOD!!!!! http://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_eek.gif Im Glad I didint let socko on my boat. http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif

Great as usale Psychfilm. But this gets me thinking. Who's realy in charge? http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-wink.gif

http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/25.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/25.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif<div class="ev_tpc_signature">

Good Luck and Good Hunting,Wilhelm


http://i68.photobucket.com/albums/i29/WilhelmSchulz-/U.gif http://i68.photobucket.com/albums/i29/WilhelmSchulz-/N.gif http://i68.photobucket.com/albums/i29/WilhelmSchulz-/Polishflag.gif
http://img300.imageshack.us/img300/1249/lockwoodsinnsigjq6.gif
http://8thflotilla.bravehost.com/index.html
http://hosted.filefront.com/WilhelmSchulz
__________________________________________________ ____________________________________
"The idea is not to die for your country but make the other basterd die for his." Gen. George S. Patton.
"Uncomon valor was a comon virtue" Adm. Chester Nimitz.
"Wars are won by a strong will for victory" Marshal Zhukov
"Tenancity, Dic.k. Stay with the bastard till he's on the bottom" Lt. Commander Dudly "Mush" Morton, USS Wahoo
"We dont jave problems, just solutions and other options" Lt. Commander Eugene Fluckey, USS Barb

Celeon999
11-10-2006, 01:19 PM
http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/35.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif http://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_biggrin.gif

Great stuff Psych ! http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif


I really wonder from which hellish fields the cotton was picked that this sock was made of. http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/blink.gif

Here are some of my favourites from this episode :


<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-title">quote:</div><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-content"> Socko radios back B-dienst and tells them to go suck an egg. If they want to engage this convoy so badly they can come out and do it themselves. I have to pull Socko off the radio when he tries to order a large pizza and have it delivered to the boat giving away our position to anyone within radio range.
</div></BLOCKQUOTE>


<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-title">quote:</div><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-content"> 13:58 U-123 receives another contact report this one from Donitz himself. We are on a perfect intercept course. Donitz confirms this with the Captain of the inbound British convoy who asks for our exact position again and Donitz is more than happy to report our exact location. Socko jumps on the horn and tells Donitz what he really thinks of him.
</div></BLOCKQUOTE>


<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-title">quote:</div><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-content"> Thanks, I didn?t gather that from the sonar waves pinging off the side of the boat that the enemy was pinging us. It?s so good that we have you onboard to point these things out to us. Your stupidity stymies the imagination.
</div></BLOCKQUOTE>


<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-title">quote:</div><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-content"> ?Of course they?re in the water where did you expect them you smack-TARD?!? Socko shouts at the to of his lungs.

</div></BLOCKQUOTE>


<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-title">quote:</div><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-content">Thank you Hydrophone Operator Obvious, thank you for that insightful information. The next thing you?ll be telling us is that they are detonating or something like that.
</div></BLOCKQUOTE>


<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-title">quote:</div><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-content">The First Officer slumps to the floor and Socko is on him like a soccer mom when her kid does not make the team and she realizes at the same time that her child is not going to be the next Mia Hamm that she is not going to be able to live vicariously through her children and pressure them to get into a good college when all they really want to do is form a grunge band and hang out in the parking lot behind the Circle K. Where was I?
</div></BLOCKQUOTE><div class="ev_tpc_signature">

http://img354.imageshack.us/img354/7347/germanyf2t11x2ef.gif (http://imageshack.us)http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/341/sig31lu4.jpg (http://imageshack.us)

Miriyia
11-10-2006, 01:23 PM
Great read as always.
Hope Socko likes GW mod.

Michiel_88
11-10-2006, 01:40 PM
That was just impressive http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/clap.gif

Good reading, as always. I think I'm becoming a Socko fan. http://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_biggrin.gif<div class="ev_tpc_signature">

http://i135.photobucket.com/albums/q121/Michiel_88/signature.jpg
the community manual (http://www.communitymanuals.com/shiii/index.php?title=Main_Page)

Josef_Reiter
11-10-2006, 02:57 PM
This stuff really needs to be submitted to MTV or something and made into a Adult Cartoon, Id say its quality enoughhttp://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_smile.gif

sonicboom197356
11-10-2006, 04:35 PM
wow first time i read your story...wow very funny and good lol....guess that smell HAHAA<div class="ev_tpc_signature">

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v642/antsmith/voted.jpg

names = sonicboom/s!ms
Xfire = coffee111

Mittelwaechter
11-10-2006, 05:25 PM
Great story and nice screens. Thank you very much for sharing your incredible imagination with us.


Guess what we've hunted down last weekend?

http://img166.imageshack.us/img166/6854/c2deckchairperiviewbwvy2.jpg

We didn't manage to save the deckchair, it went down together with the freighter it was hooked to. Sorry for that.
The surviving captain told me he fished the deckchair out of AM29.<div class="ev_tpc_signature">


http://img386.imageshack.us/img386/5169/bannersscenteredhaveyounl3.jpg

There is no safe distance

Celeon999
11-11-2006, 11:44 AM
"The only thing that really frightened me during the war was the sock peril"

Winston Churchill

http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/88.gif<div class="ev_tpc_signature">

http://img354.imageshack.us/img354/7347/germanyf2t11x2ef.gif (http://imageshack.us)http://img111.imageshack.us/img111/341/sig31lu4.jpg (http://imageshack.us)

GoldenEagle8
11-11-2006, 04:03 PM
I'm personally amazed that Admiral D. Didn't have the sock killed for insulting him so badly.<div class="ev_tpc_signature">

http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n126/GoldenEagle8/sig2.gif
Spinach Fer Britain (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=2263301282676551422&q=Banned+cartoons&hl=en), Der Fuehrer's Face (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDWF8hznHZs), Commando Duck (http://youtube.com/watch?v=OFUQ7AgvgJU&mode=user&search=), Blitz Wolf (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5611353179314742028&q=WWII+cartoon&hl=en), Russian Rhapsody (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3169202416829336789&q=WWII+cartoon&hl=en), The Ducktators (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1633673673225697900&q=WWII+cartoon&hl=en), The Spirit of '43 (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=2857278388843745235&q=WWII+cartoon&hl=en), Tokio Jokio (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvA1zphaeTQ)
"YES! Everything I do ist a surprise! Even to ME!"
"Nobody existed before the War. And I will make sure NOBODY EXISTS AFTER THE WAR!"
"If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking" -George S. Patton

Psychfilm
11-13-2006, 08:12 AM
http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/11.gif

I am firmly convinced that this is the best forum on the Internet. Everyone is so supportive and creative it really is a joy to post here. Thank you so much for all of the responses. Just a few responses to your responses below:

Schulz, I sometimes wonder myself who is in charge ole? Smitty or Socko. I think the answer would probably scare me too much though so I?m always left wondering.

Celeon999, I never really know if people get half the stuff I put in to these posts. A lot of times the humor is so dark or so obscure but I know that you appreciate it and that makes it all worthwhile. Thank you.

Reiter, If I could support myself and my wife with this full time I would do it in a heartbeat. The happiest I have ever been is when I am writing these patrols. The characters have really just sprung to life and I really enjoy finding out what they will do next. Half the time I am probably as shocked and surprised as everyone else. Thanks.

Mittelwaechter, I am just geeked beyond words the people actually read and enjoy this stuff. I am the one who should be thanking everyone who reads. It really is a lot of fun to come up with this stuff.

GoldenEagle8, Donitz was probably under his desk crying after Socko got done ripping him a new one. I do not know exactly what is so terrifying, is it the Sock itself or the guy pulling the strings?

Again thanks so much for the wonderful responses. I really appreciate it.

I?ve just installed the GW mod and had a chance to play around with it some this weekend. I think Socko might need to have his ego taken down a peg or two. Just don?t tell him that I said that. This was pasted on the side of U-1 just before departure. Yeet.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Socko%20Vaca/Socko2GW.jpg <div class="ev_tpc_signature">

"There are three types of torpedo personnel in the Kriegsmarine; those who can count and those who can't."
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a87/Psychfilm/Socko%20Vaca/signature.jpg

saijonas
01-03-2007, 08:47 AM
Psychfilm,

As usual, first rate stuff, can't believe I missed it for this long.
Have you've upgraded to GWX?

Stackhouse25th
01-03-2007, 11:10 AM
*jaw drops*<div class="ev_tpc_signature">

VFA-25 C/O

GoldenEagle8
01-03-2007, 06:31 PM
<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-title">quote:</div><div class="ip-ubbcode-quote-content">Originally posted by Psychfilm:
GoldenEagle8, Donitz was probably under his desk crying after Socko got done ripping him a new one. I do not know exactly what is so terrifying, is it the Sock itself or the guy pulling the strings?
</div></BLOCKQUOTE>

http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif Now thats a funny mental image right there! LOL.<div class="ev_tpc_signature">

http://i111.photobucket.com/albums/n126/GoldenEagle8/sig2.gif
Spinach Fer Britain (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=2263301282676551422&q=Banned+cartoons&hl=en), Der Fuehrer's Face (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDWF8hznHZs), Commando Duck (http://youtube.com/watch?v=OFUQ7AgvgJU&mode=user&search=), Blitz Wolf (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5611353179314742028&q=WWII+cartoon&hl=en), Russian Rhapsody (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3169202416829336789&q=WWII+cartoon&hl=en), The Ducktators (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1633673673225697900&q=WWII+cartoon&hl=en), The Spirit of '43 (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=2857278388843745235&q=WWII+cartoon&hl=en), Tokio Jokio (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvA1zphaeTQ)
"YES! Everything I do ist a surprise! Even to ME!"
"Nobody existed before the War. And I will make sure NOBODY EXISTS AFTER THE WAR!"
"If everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking" -George S. Patton

tuddley3
01-03-2007, 07:05 PM
Hey Psych, thanks for that, I was beginning to have Socko withdrawls. Hope your holidays were pleasant, and what a way to bring in the new year with a Sock Patrol. http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/25.gif<div class="ev_tpc_signature">

http://i101.photobucket.com/albums/m65/tuddley3/SH3%20Sigs/SubsimForumSigGWXUBWA.jpg
Proud Member Of The Kreigsmarine 4th Flotilla (http://4thflotilla.proboards49.com/index.cgi) LuS Strelow's Personnel File (http://www.geocities.com/cowboy_todd68/temporarypreviewfile.html?1168682938890/Strelow.html?1168517823046)
Community Manual (http://www.communitymanuals.com/shiii/index.php?title=Main_Page)
VikingGrandad's JSGME Instructions (http://forums.ubi.com/eve/forums/a/tpc/f/9091085392/m/3461029123)
Tuddley's FileFront Page (http://hosted.filefront.com/Tuddley3) - Includes Randomization Pack with Intro Screens & Pinup Girls ! ! !